


Burnt Out Matches

by spockandawe



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Post-Finale, Rebuilding, Seeker Trines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: It takes a while for you to realize that you and Starscream haven’t seen each other in quite some time. Not since peace unexpectedly broke out. You haven’t had much reason—or desire—to speak to him, but you do eventually realize you haven’t caught so much as a glimpse of him for decacycles.And why? What reason do you have to avoid Starscream? Even at the pinnacle of his strength, at the nadir of yours, even then you had no cause to fear him. No, if there is a new distance between you, then it must be due to… Starscream. Well. You allow yourself a slight smile. You’ve never allowed him to think he could control you before. You certainly aren’t going to begin now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is all about an abuser reestablishing his control over a person he's abused. Please tread with caution.

It takes a while for you to realize that you and Starscream haven’t seen each other in quite some time. Not since peace unexpectedly broke out. You haven’t had much reason—or desire—to speak to him, but you do eventually realize you haven’t caught so much as a glimpse of him for decacycles.

And why? What reason do _you_ have to avoid Starscream? Even at the pinnacle of his strength, at the nadir of yours, even then you had no cause to fear him. No, if there is a new distance between you, then it must be due to… Starscream. Well. You allow yourself a slight smile. You’ve never allowed him to think he could control you before. You certainly aren’t going to begin now.

Once you’ve made the connection, you know you’re correct, you know he’s been avoiding you. Still, at that afternoon’s council meeting, you can’t resist asking Shockwave whether Starscream has been as scarce at the new university as he is at these government meetings. Shockwave’s level, blank look when you ask the question is nothing out of the ordinary. No, what strikes you as unusual is that Shockwave _defends_ Starscream, of all the absurd things. Dispassionately. Unemotionally. But he defends him. He tells you that Starscream has been very attentive, and frequently oversees the construction for the university and directs the work.

How... _interesting._ And when you press further and try to bait him into criticizing Starscream, he refuses to be drawn in. You aren’t entirely sure what to make of that. All the more reason for you to dig deeper into this and set things back to the way they _ought_ to be.

When the meeting ends, you set off immediately. Why delay? You don’t know where Starscream has made his home, but all you need do is ask a passing Vehicon, and he gives you an answer without even a moment’s hesitation. The Autobots may gloat over their victory, over how you have been cast down, but still, you have not been forgotten.

As an afterthought, you send out an alert that sectors of the city have been experiencing irregular power fluctuations. It’s nothing out of the ordinary; as rushed as reconstruction efforts have been, the infrastructure isn’t sound, and problems like this are commonplace. Even if no further issues are found nobody will question your report. And you’re able to redirect work crews from various nonessential tasks to carry out inspections. Nonessential tasks like… the university construction, for example.

When you reach your destination, someone _is_ home to answer the door. But not Starscream. You weren’t expecting Knock Out. But despite your surprise, he looks even more shocked to see you.

You don’t begin the conversation. You are a guest, waiting to be greeted. Let him begin the conversation wrong-footed and unsure. After a moment’s hesitation, he ventures, “My lord--?”

Ah. You smile. “No lord, Knock Out.” No lord except by the power he voluntarily gives you. And to think, him a self-proclaimed _Autobot_. For shame! Perhaps he will think on this. Reconsider.

He laughs, nervous. “Of course, my liege—Megatron, I mean. Yes, of course… Megatron. Welcome to our humble abode.” Knock Out takes a step back, waves you inside. “And, ah, how may I—what can I do for you today?”

How may he _serve_ you, he means. “I’m looking for Starscream.”

Mm. He was already ill at ease, but now he’s worried. He glances towards the back of their home. Not enough for you to act on, not yet. Unless he decides to be difficult.

“Starscream? Oh, _Starscream_ , yes, ha. I’m afraid you may want to come back later, he’s away right now—at the university construction site, you know, and who knows how long they’ll be—”

You stride off towards the back of their home. “Then I believe I’ll go and find him. I’m sure the workers will be pleased to have a break from his attentions.” You’re sure most of the workers have already packed up and left, and Starscream will have no excuse at all to put you off.

Knock Out follows beside you. You take long strides, so it takes two steps of his to match one of yours. “My lo—, I mean, Megatron, I wouldn’t want you to go to the trouble, why, if you’ll only sit down for a moment, I’m sure I can raise Starscream on the communicator, or drive ahead, let him know you’re coming—“

“Oh no, Knock Out, I wouldn’t _dream_ of inconveniencing you. Allow me.” Their home is a modest one; it only takes a few turns to find your way to their back entrance. The door slides open and you step onto the balcony, and there, no buildings even in your path, you can see the construction site yourself.

But as it happens, you don’t need to go find Starscream yourself. He comes to you. You hear the jet before you spot it high up above you in the sky. He sees you too. You’re a flier, you know unnecessary circling when you see it. He’ll be wondering whether he can run without losing too much face. Perhaps it’s Knock Out skulking behind you that tips him over from cowardice into bravado.

He lands, transforming with a flourish, but you don’t miss the unsteadiness in his wings. You’re still smiling. Why wouldn’t you? It’s an entirely appropriate expression for a friendly social visit like this.

Knock Out tries to slip around you, saying, “Ah, Starscream, as, as you may have seen, we have an unexpected _guest_ —”

You step forward, cutting him off. “Starscream.”

“Megatron.”

He doesn’t bow, but _oh_ , he wants to. And even more than that, he wants to step _back_ , to flee, to turn tail and run. You take another step. You don’t loom, oh no. You just happen to be taller than he is. It isn’t your fault that he has to look so far up to meet your optics.

You hold his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then turn away, walk. You admire their apartment, the view, say a few polite words to Knock Out. It’s only by chance that you happen to circle around behind Starscream. Will he turn to follow? Allow himself to fall into orbit around you, as always? He stands still, his eyes on Knock Out, on his home. But as you pace behind him, you can see his clenched hands, the faint shiver in his wings.

“Knock Out.” Starscream jumps, and again, you can’t help but smile. “I’m sure Starscream is parched, after the work he’s done. Perhaps you might find us some refreshments?”

He sketches half a bow before catching himself. “Why of course, my—Megatron.”

Starscream cuts in with, “Yes, indeed, I’ll help prepare—”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Only the barest touch, but he freezes, motionless. “In fact, Starscream, I was hoping you might show me around your delightful little home.”

He doesn’t have a way to politely refuse. Will he do it anyways? Ignore you? Make some excuse? He hesitates, your hand still on his shoulder. And he buckles. He shakes off your hand as he walks forward and he doesn’t look back at you, but both of you know surrender when you see it.

“This way… Megatron.” You can hear the hole in his speech where he has to stop himself from calling you his lord. “It isn’t a large apartment. This shouldn’t take long.”

No, it shouldn’t. And even if you cared about his home, it wouldn’t take more than a few kliks. But you drag your feet, stopping to examine every little aspect of every room, admire every view. Every time he tries to move you onward, you derail him with some inane question, casual and irrelevant. He’s torn between impatience and unease, but he still can’t bring himself to question you.

He shows you his hab suite, and Knock Out’s. But you notice when he tries to breeze past another door on his way to their washracks. So of course you pull up short and ask what _this_ room is.

Starscream hesitates. “Nothing of interest, nothing work seeing, if you’ll come with me—”

He tries to lead you on, but you stay where you are. He’s agitated, he’s _been_ agitated since he saw you. But he’s doing a less and less competent job of hiding it. He didn’t even manage to muster a plausible lie. You wouldn’t have believed whatever he told you, of course, but the fact that he could even try is endlessly amusing to you. He makes another attempt to lead you forward, and when you refuse to move, he turns, his wings flicking with irritation or nerves—both, knowing him—and he stops himself just short of grabbing you by the wrist to pull you onward.

You give his hand a long, pointed look, and then look up into his optics. The fear is starting to show through on his face now.

You let the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable, and say, “I insist,” and turn to tap the access pad yourself.

It only takes a single glance to see what kind of room this is. It’s a third hab suite. Your first instinct is to demand to know whose it is, but you doubt you even need to do that much. You look back at Starscream. He already isn’t meeting your optics, but his head drops until he’s staring down at your pedes.

After a long moment, he caves, answers the question you never had to ask, and mutters, “Shockwave.”

 _Well._ That is certainly a development you never saw coming. And you’re feeling the first stirrings of real anger. Starscream working against you—hardly worth remarking on. Knock Out isn’t all that much of a surprise. Shockwave, now, that isn’t something you would have ever guessed at. But it isn’t so much any single one of them so much as that it’s _all_ of them. Working _against you._

Starscream must be able to read some of that from your face, or at least guess at it. He’s edged away from you until his back is set against the wall. He still isn’t meeting your optics, he’s still staring at your pedes, but you can tell he’s watching you closely. Familiar ground. Will he run or will he fight? That is always the question with him. You hope he fights.

But then you’re distracted by the sound of footsteps. Knock Out turns the corner, holding a platter of energon treats, moving just a little too fast to properly call it _walking,_ to find the two of you. To his credit, his face doesn’t show any surprise or alarm. He’s no fool, you can still see the tension in every line of his body, but you’ve done nothing wrong.

And that momentary distraction allows you to pull yourself under control again. As gratifying as it would feel to give in and indulge yourself—no. You’d rather play a slower, subtler game.

So you take the platter from Knock Out, and before he has the chance to say a word, you smoothly say, “It must have slipped my mind, but I meant to buy some engex to bring to your charming little home.” You hand him a credit chip and he takes it without thinking. “I’m sure you won’t mind slipping out to go buy some while Starscream and I catch up.”

He doesn’t want to. That’s clear enough. You can see how tightly his hand is clenched around the chip, and you can see the way he and Starscream are looking helplessly at each other. You doubt they’ll have the nerve to refuse you. Not after they’ve bent so many times.

You turn and take a few steps into Shockwave’s hab suite, idly eating a few of the energon treats. Knock Out still hasn’t answered, but you aren’t feeling terribly impatient. It’s certainly entertaining enough just watching them struggle.

After a few more nanokliks of silence, you turn back to them, “Is there a problem?”

They both jump and look guiltily towards you. Starscream is clutching Knock Out’s hand, but as you turn, he drops it and jerks back. He’s too slow for you to have possibly missed it. For shame.

Knock Out says, “No, m—” My lord. “—Megatron. I’ll be right back. As soon as I can.”

He doesn’t turn to leave quite yet. He and Starscream hold each other’s optics for a moment longer—you’re unspeakably amused, all they have to do is tell you _no—_ and then Knock Out turns and leaves.

They don’t live close to any of the commercial districts. This little errand will take him some time. And there are no end to the things you could say to Starscream about someone what kind of person would leave him _alone_ at a time like this. There are no end to the things you could say about how everyone he could ever hope to protect him is still completely under your control, in every meaningful way.

But you’re enjoying yourself. You smile again, and let him _see_ you smile, just for a moment before you turn around. You step further into Shockwave’s hab suite, and Starscream trails helplessly behind you. How _easily_ he slides back into his old place— _beneath you._

There’s nothing interesting to see here. If anything, it’s even more dull than Starscream’s and Knock Out’s hab suites. No, your only purpose in lingering here is… Starscream. You stand in the center of Shockwave’s hab suite, turning, lazily taking in the view. What little there is of it. From the corner of your optic, you watch Starscream. He’s torn between impatience and fear. But it’s never taken much to tip him in one direction or the other.

Finally, he takes an abortive half-step forward, snapping, “If you’re _quite_ finished—?”

You round on him before he even finishes speaking. His words cut off, and he cringes back, hands half-raised. And you... don’t give him what he’s expecting. You only look levelly at him for a few long nanokliks, turn away again, and go back to admiring the bare, unremarkable room.

The silence stretches on even longer. You hear Starscream quietly slink forward to stand at your shoulder. A conscious gesture, or unconscious submission? You’ll accept either, but you do want him to _know_ where he stands.

Finally, you break the silence. “ _Gr_ _ounders,_ Starscream? Really?”

From the corner of your optic, you see him bristle. “And why not?” His tone turns sly. “Unless you’re still caught up in the philosophy of the _old_ Council, of course—”

All you have to do is glance at him, and the words choke off again. You take your time, place the tray of energon treats on Shockwave’s berth, slowly turn to face Starscream. He nearly takes a step backward before he stops himself. You move in closer, so he has to crane his neck to meet your optics.

“Why, Starscream. I’m surprised you would make that connection.” He’s doing his best not to cower, but you don’t miss the shiver running out through his wings. But… not yet. Too simple. Too _easy._ You pause, letting his imagination spin ideas of what you’re about to do to him. And again, you turn away.

You say, “I only mean that it must be quite a hardship, trusting your maintenance to someone who isn’t… _intimately_ familiar with what it’s like to have a flier’s frame. Wings are such delicate structures, after all.”

He mutters, “Knock Out _is_ a—”

“A medic, yes. He can keep you _operational.”_ Your timing is artful as you glance back at him. “But do you expect me to believe he maintains you the way another flier would?”

The attack is subtle, tailored particularly to work on Starscream’s pride. In some ways, you don’t blame him for missing it. But on the other hand, really, he ought to know better by now. When you see his mouth curve into a slow smile, you know you have him.

“Actually,” he says. “ _Actually._ Now that you mention that. I _have_ been troubled by some problems lately. If you’re offering…?”

You shift to face him fully. “I am.”

Starscream isn’t even trying to hide his smile. Does he believe he has _you_ cornered? He’s more of a fool than you thought. It is remarkable how he keeps finding so many new ways to disappoint you. He speaks slowly, savoring the words. “Then you can help maintain my pedes.”

You have to hold back a smile of your own. Even better than you could have possibly hoped. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you go down on one knee.

Starscream lifts one pede and plants it firmly on your leg. Then he takes his time, smirking down at you, and finally says, “Go on.”

You’re gentle. Even more gentle, you’re sure, than Knock Out bothers to be. You take his pede in one hand, flexing his ankle joint open just far enough to slip your fingers inside his frame. At the edge of your vision, you can still see him grinning down at you, as though he’s scored some sort of _victory_ over you.

For a few nanokliks, you idly work your fingers deeper into his leg. You allow his pede to settle back on your knee, and reach up to cup the back of his leg with your free hand, steadying him. You don’t bother to check whether his gears are aligned or his wiring is in order. This was never about _maintenance._

So after a few nanokliks, when he’s settled down into smug self-satisfaction, you say, “A trine.”

You feel the tension snap back into him in an instant, up and down his frame, under your hands. But your fingers are buried deep inside his leg, and he can’t pull away. He still wants to, you can read it all over him. He’ll tear out half the wiring in his ankle if he tries, but he wants to.

After a moment, he manages, “I don’t know what you could mean.”

You don’t bother telling him not to play the fool. This is _Starscream_ after all. “A trine, with two grounders.”

Nothing but sullen silence.

“How remarkably pathetic.”

Wounded pride spurs him into action, as it so often does. He snaps, “And what business do you have with it? The last time I looked, you’d just finished losing a war—a little, unimportant war, perhaps you _might_ have heard of it—so I don’t see why anyone should be bothered about your opinion on anything at all, _Lord Megatron._ ”

You wait patiently for him to settle. His tirade trails off into nothingness as you fail to respond. He pulls a little at his leg, just a little. But your fingers are too deep inside his ankle for him to escape. And while you’re at it, you slip the fingers of your free hand into the back of his knee. You can feel the way he flinches. You can feel him trembling as you work your claws slowly, so slowly, deeper into the joint. You smile.

You could do this for the better part of a cycle, if you cared to. You could do it to his _wings_ _._ How long could you keep Starscream like this, tense and braced for pain, trying not to shake as he waits for the inevitable? A thought for another time.

For now, you say. “Two grounders.”

He’s smart enough to not respond this time.

“Tell me,” you say. “Have you bothered to tell either of them what a trine _is?_ Do they even know?”

Still more silence.

You sigh, but your smile only gets wider. “You haven’t even told them what a trine is.”

You’re silent for some moments, idly working your claws through the all the parts of his joint you can reach. When you tap a single claw against the ball bearing at the center of his ankle, he shudders once before he manages to hold himself frozen again. You watch him openly, but he refuses to meet your optics, staring stubbornly down at your hands.

The silence drags on, and you can feel the tension getting to him, the way he can only endure so long before he has to strike back or flee. And you’ve left him with only one option. But the moment he finally caves and opens his mouth to say something, you cut him off before he can manage even a single word.

“Tell me, Starscream. What are you hoping to achieve like this? Are you hoping for a real, functioning trine? Do feel free to disagree with me at any point.”

You pause, but to his marginal credit, he is smart enough not to rise to that bait. You could stop there. You’ve made your point. But… why _would_ you stop there?

“A functioning trine. Do let me know, how do you propose to achieve that, when neither of the others know what a trine _is_ , or that they’re even in one? Please, do tell me if I’m incorrect in any way. But they don’t even know what you need from them, do they? Two grounders, who you haven’t bothered to explain trines to. Who you haven’t bothered to ask if they even want to be in a trine. Fascinating.”

He’s still shaking, but there’s anger there, mixed in with the fear. He still hasn’t said a word, but he wants to. You can see it written all over his face.

“So without their consent, without any knowledge on their parts of what it even entails, you have your trine. I do hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

He finally hits his breaking point, and hisses, “What would _you_ know about it? I—”

You let a claw drag down the little segment of endoskeleton you can reach, and his vocalizer glitches out with a burst of panicked static. You repeat the action, and watch as he dims his optics, holding himself frozen, except for the way he can’t stop that quiet little trembling you can just barely feel.

“They don’t know what you want from them. Even what you _need_ from them. I suppose you’re clinging to some desperate hope that they’ll somehow divine it from thin air, and give it to you? Or do you propose to tell them that they’re in a trine years later, when you think they’ve been entrenched in it long enough they won’t leave you over that dishonesty? That force of habit will outweigh the fact that you lied to them, and _continued_ to lie to them?”

It pushes him into anger again. He stiffens and tries to yank his leg away from you, but your grip is too solid for him to get anywhere. You could take half his leg off like this, without even trying. Starscream still tries to pull away.

“How would _you_ know what it's like,” he snaps. “Feel free to tell me about all the successes of your personal life. We might have to wait until I have space on my schedule to deal with it. I’m sure you have so many stories it will take _nanokliks_ to hear all of them—”

You push your fingers deep into his joints, pressing against wires and connectors. Not true pain, but right on the edge of it. He presses his mouth tight shut and refuses to meet your optics.

And you grin. “Please, do enlighten me. I’d be _delighted_ to know ‘what it’s like.’ I’m unspeakably interested in knowing how you expect a trine to flourish when you’ve built it on such a remarkably dishonest foundation.”

Finally, he whispers, “It isn’t like that.”

You trail a claw along a single, tiny servo in his ankle, and his voice chokes off again. You tug at the connections, just barely threatening to yank them loose.

There’s so much more you could say. There are _cycles_ of entertainment to be had here. But you’re distracted by the sound of footsteps.

Starscream hears it just moments after you and twists as much as he can while you have his leg captive, craning his head to look out through the door and into the hall.

It _isn’t_ Knock Out. When you check your chronometer—yes, you’d expect him back any klik now. But the mech who turns the corner into the hab suite is Shockwave.

You would have noticed if Starscream had used his comms to call for assistance—but ah, Knock Out. Of course. An oversight. Shockwave steps forward, slow and steady, towards the two of you. You make no move to take your hands out of Starscream’s frame. Shockwave’s face doesn’t show any surprise, because of course it never does. A shame. You would have been very interested in seeing Knock Out’s reaction to this scene.

You meet Shockwave’s gaze readily enough, and hold his optic with yours as you give the wires in Starscream’s knee a deliberate caress. Starscream is still frozen except for those faint hints of shivers you can still feel through your hands. Shockwave doesn’t react at all. Disappointing.

No, that isn’t quite true, you _do_ get something of a reaction. Shockwave looks away from you first, turns to face Starscream. “Starscream. You will need to leave in the next zero point six kliks to reach your meeting with the university officials in a timely manner.”

It takes Starscream a moment to catch on to the lie. But he does. Eventually. “I— _Yes_ , of course, how could I be so forgetful—I’ll be needing to go, right away, my most _sincere_ apologies—”

Your fingers are still buried in his joints. You take your time, slowly working your claws free, until you release him. “But of course. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you.”

Once he’s free, he doesn’t even turn to look at you, only runs. He pauses only long enough to clasp Shockwave’s shoulder before he pushes past him and rushes down the hall. You and Shockwave watch each other until you hear the sound of the door closing behind Starscream, and only then does he step back far enough to give you enough room to get to the hallway.

He doesn’t bother trying to make conversation, he hardly even says a word. And you don’t resist as he escorts you to their front door. You’ve done what you came here to do. Posturing for Shockwave would be a waste of your time. But just as you reach ground level and begin the stroll back to your residence, you see Knock Out come tearing down the street and transform to his feet, ventilating hard.

He freezes, seeing you, looking from you, up to his apartment door, and back again. You’re leaving. You’ve done what you came here to do. For today. But you can’t resist needling Knock Out one last time before you go. “ _Do_ tell me how Starscream’s meeting today goes. I find myself taking a whole new interest in academia. I’m sure you can tell me about it when I visit next. Such a charming little home. I’ve neglected you for far too long, and I’m sure the four of us have a great deal of catching up to do.”

He bows his head, and it’s as good as if he’d bent his knee. “Of course, my— Of course. Megatron.”


End file.
